


An All-American Peep Show

by SKitchune



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: America gives one hell of a show, Good Ol Al is just a sweet all-American Gent, LOL what is with me and making America-centric hoe series?, M/M, Voyeurism, mentions of unknown boyfriend, no underage stuff, oneshot but there's a possibility that it could continue, who happens to be a big slut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-24 23:02:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13821321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SKitchune/pseuds/SKitchune
Summary: Like always, America stays a few weeks with Molossia. Like always, Molossia lusts for the incredibly sexy, but all-over modest America. Unlike always, America starts jacking off and fucking around with his sex toys and, luckily, Molossia was in the closet.





	An All-American Peep Show

Molassia couldn't look away. 

The way rivulets of sweat raced down hard muscles over heated tan skin was mesmerizing. Each bead passed down his gorgeous face and neck, between his collar bone, through the light trail of hair below his clavicles stripping down between his built pectorals and curving up to his dusky nipples, riding through taut abs, and almost literally soaking the dirty, worn-out jeans that cut off his view from what was undoubtedly, a nice package.

"Ken, you okay buddy?" America, the man who'd been watching over him for as long as he could remember and who was currently his wet dream on legs, asked in concern, asked with nothing but genuine concern. 

"Y-yes...Mr. Jones. I-I'm just wondering when this terrible heat will pass." He bends the truth, looking at his well-watered flowers that were enjoying the nice shade the patio was giving them. He wishes that the terrible heat in his gut would simply dissipate if he poured the water from his watering can onto himself, much like the plants' thirst.

Alfred gave one curt huff, chest expanding oh so enticingly for the teenager. He wiped his sweaty forehead and fanned his hot body with his large hat. Behind him were colossal piles of hay he had managed to haul over himself. 

If anybody asked, no other nation worked as hard as Alfred...in the developed world at least. While most were focused solely on paperwork and alcohol, Alfred had always been more than hands-on. He focused on the people more, helping small organizations work their way up, joining the crowd in rallies for who knows what, and...this...this absurdly distracting show of skin and muscles...and man. The country would definitely be better if the government just listens to him more. 

"It's past noon and you haven't eaten lunch yet." America pushed his sweat-slicked hair back and walked towards the house. Ken couldn't help but smell the air he had brought with him. His alluring scent was a heady blend of clean aftershave, sweat, and foliage grime with just a pleasant tone of musk that wasn't masked by faint-smelling deodorant.

When Molossia catches himself doing something embarrassing again, he curses softly and turns around to see America watching him, holding the screen door open for the teenager.

"I'll rustle something up." The older nation grins, making the boy's heart skip a beat and body frozen. The way that smile breaks out perfectly despite being all sweaty, the way his voice sounds just a little hoarser.

"You don't have to, sir." Ken tries extremely hard to sound respectful just as his boss said but his gut betrayed him with a weak gargle.

"A growing young man needs to eat!" Alfred throws his sweaty arm on his shoulders and leads him inside. 

Ken couldn't focus on anything but his beating heart, the sudden heat flash he was experiencing, and the man's handsome face only inches from his own.

Time flew by and now they were seated on a small round table that could barely fit four. America had laid down some sloppy joes, sweet iced tea, coleslaw, potato skins, and collard greens. 

"Why do you have so many tattoos?" Molossia asks, pointing out America's left arm filled to the wrist with colorful and, modern, tapestry-like drawings, as they were woven onto his skin. He knew there were more, eagle wings spreads across his upper back and covers up to half of the man's right bicep, several passages line down his right side and his left calves was a canvas for modern, almost minimalistic feathers and totems.

America looked at the particular arm the boy was pointing at. He'd long since put on a shirt but he rolled the sleeves up to his robust shoulders. He smiles, a note of laughter following.

"First People." He says simply. "I may not look like much, but I'm still half-native. I have my mom to thank for that." He answers, taking the cold ice tea down his throat.

"Your blond. You have blue-eyes." Ken takes it with just the right amount of salt to not sound too offensive. He'd just been on Tumblr a lot lately. He was ingrained with the need to correct the man on something he barely knew about and that would be a stupid move to make.

"Well, I did say that I don't look like much." The man takes another long chug on his pitcher. Yes, he was incredibly thirsty.

"Sorry." Molossia ducked his head and focused on his food. Macaroni, chili, and cheese. Simple as it was, it was hearty, and extremely delicious.

"Don't be. I don't exactly know how I came to be anyway, but dad's surely white. He apparently died before me and Mattie were born. Mom said he was a hero." Another shrug. It was almost like the answer was automatic at this point.

"I-I'm sorry." The boy curses to himself.

Alfred laughs, loud and welcomed, like the pleasant breeze that sometimes graced the desserts. "It's fine, really. I've been here for eons, kid, I stopped asking how the world works." 

Just then, a thought catches Ken by his throat. He shivers. "Will I..." His voice breaks a little pitchy. "Will I live as long as you?" 

America looks like he had just been apprehended for a crime he had totally committed. The boy was about to give his trademark apology when Alfred's large hand cups over his smaller, thinner ones.

"I don't know." He smiles sadly. "But I'll make sure to help in any way I can to keep you kicking for as long as I can." 

Ken smiles back, pushing back tears creeping from uncertainty. "Thank you, Mr. Jones." 

"Alfred. Al. Whichever you prefer." America chuckled. He was never the one for formalities.

"Al..." Ken mostly whispers to himself, liking how that single syllable rolls out of him. Al. He was going to get used to that.

\---------------------------------------

Later that night, Ken found himself sneaking into Alfred's room while the man went on his evening jog. He attributes everything to be constantly in a horrible state of adolescence in a modern age of comfort, where his hormones take control and sometimes his adolescent urges takes him to the man's hamper and pulling out his damp, dirty, grey tank top.

Ken buries his nose in it, inhaling the strong, heady scent of musk and sweat with the lightest touch of minty deodorant. He imagines digging his nose into those bushy armpits Alfred had, licking away the sweat the moment he returns back from his jog. Yeah, just tackle him to the floor and lick all those sweaty muscles before—

"Ken? Ken, where are ya?" A loud voice booms from downstairs and the boy freezes in place—on his knees by the hamper with his face plastered on a sweaty shirt and a hard-on cradled by his pants. He doesn't think as he hides inside the man's closet. 

Alfred turns on the lights to his room and looks around. He walks in and shrugs his broad shoulders. "Must've gone out for a walk too..." he mutters, mostly to himself. 

Ken holds his breath as the man comes to view with his sweaty back to his. He has to stop himself from moaning when the older man removes his baggy, red shirt and reveals his muscular, knotted back. The wings inked on them, absolutely magnificent and powerful.

The man stretches his arms, flexing them as he yawns and cuts the tension in his body. He turns around, showcasing his rippling torso as he scratches his crotch through his sweatpants. 

Ken licks his lips and swallows as it becomes evidently clear that Alfred wasn't wearing any underwear, the thickening line of hair starting below his ribs simply lead to a bush of dark curls as he continues to scratch, partly fondle, himself. 

His green eyes lead up to the man's broad chest, mentally commenting on how surprisingly hairy Al was. Usually seeing him clean-shaven and properly dressed in his suit definitely contrasts the raw, rugged look of his chest with it's light spattering of hair across the top portion of the jacked muscles. 

The older man then kicks off his shoes and socks before pulling down his pants. Ken bites his lips raw when he sees the man in his naked glory, his hardening cock was long and thick and bouncing along with Alfred's movements. 

He was a living god posing for him. His endowment framed between thick, muscled thighs, the man laughs heartily, peering down at his penis and shaking it with his work-worn hands. "Might need a little beat off before Ken comes home, huh?" 

He gives his member a few nice strokes and then plays with his balls. Ken couldn't believe what he was seeing and was starting to get hard on his own as he chews on Alfred's shirt. The man then teases one of his nipples with a hoarser, alluring laugh. 

The hunk leaves for the showers and just like that, Ken was a victim of blue balls, yet before he could even complain and leave the room, Alfred comes back with lube, a towel, and a drawstring bag. 

He tries his best to towel himself dry, ruffling the fluffy white towel against wet skin and digging it in his armpits before rubbing his hair off until it was a fluffy, damp mess instead. Tousled and bed-kept. As if just finishing having intimate sex. He drapes his towel across his lap, hiding his hardening prick from view.

The man then takes off his dog tag necklace and reaches for the lube, which he tosses back and forth between his hands, squeezing and shaking to get it warm. After minutes of those bulging arm muscles set to work, the gel pops open and the man pours a generous dollop on his palm. 

He then rubs his hands together and spreads the clear gel. His hands travel to his dusky nipples and coats them generously, playing with them in the process. His head tosses back as he grunts, coaxing his nipples to hardness. 

"Yeah...get my tits..." his voice was dark and sensual as he massages his chest, getting his chest hair wet and close to his skin. He continues to give himself some dirty talk until his muscles were glistening. His left hand then snakes towards his right arm while his right hand plays with his left nipple and digs at his armpit. 

He then brings it to his nose and mouth and breathes his own stink in. He moans as he licks his fingers clean and tries to lather it up with as much drool as he could. Ken's breathing hitches at the raunchy display. 

The same hand drifts lower, painting a line down his built abdomen and finally sliding off the towel to reveal his growing dick. Alfred gasps as he gives himself languid tugs. His other hand then moves to cup and pull on his balls. A relieved moan escapes him as his prick hardens to its full size. 

It could've easily been eight to nine inches with a thickness he'd rarely seen before. He pumps it slowly, almost hypnotically, squeezing the base and shaking it. His grunts turn guttural and deep as he thrusted up to his hand. 

His right hand drifts past his balls and starts massaging his perineum. His left knee buckles up and he slightly shifts to the right to give himself more access. 

Ken didn't care anymore as he unabashedly opens his zipper and takes his cock in his hand as he strokes himself. Alfred almost advertises his hairy hole to him, inviting to be eaten out as slick fingers rub just below it. 

Alfred then groans and sits up, his heavy cock bouncing from the weight of gravity's tug. He reaches for his bag and pulls out two fleshlights—one pink and one blue.

He grumbles, "pussy or ass?" He shrugs his shoulder and tosses them to the mattress. He digs for something else and he pulls out three egg masturbators. He chooses the one with the purple label.

He sits back and takes a hold of his cock's base as he slips on the toy. Alfred bucks his hips into the toy, teeth clenching as the egg stretched over his length. 

Ken squeezes his cock, trying to stop himself from cumming. Alfred starts kicking and writhing as he fucks the toy with easy grace. 

His hips snap in rhythm, letting the egg stretch and recoil. Ken imagines his own lips over that hard mass and shoves the man's soiled shirt in his mouth and nose as he muffled his moans.

Alfred continues to play with the toy. He raises his hips from the bed and he starts hip thrusting with his feet digging into the bed. It was a fantastic view of his glorious ass clenching and relaxing as he fucks the toy good and hard. 

The American pants and pulls the toy off. Reaching for the pussy fleshlight, he easily slips it in over his member and starts thrusting, harder this time and louder as he toys with one of his nipples. 

The mood is slightly dampened with less view of the man's cock but seeing all those sweaty muscles work was a definite bonus. Alfred then flips back onto his knees and starts jerking himself in full. 

Ken bites his lips as sweat travels down the man's chest and the ridges of his abs. He feels his orgasm build as Alfred raises his free arm and tries to smother his face close to his hairy armpit. 

The man then hunches over and fucks the toy into bed, panting and grunting like a dog and eyes rolling back. He was really into this. His hips came crashing down in solid force, rolling deceptively fluid and graceful with practiced rhythm. 

Strands of his hair fall and cover his eyes. He doesn't stop his rhythm as he tries to flip them back with a head bang. When that doesn't help, he mumbles, almost cutely, before he cards a hand through his hair and pushes it back. 

His breathing quickens and his face squeezes in concentration. His grunts become louder, lower, harder, as if getting irritated. He pounds into the toy relentlessly, the bed quaking and creaking as he slams easily into the well-used toy. Alfred curses, growls, burying himself into the toy until he bottomed out.

Ken bites his hand as he cums into his hand, using Alfred's shirt to catch his spunk. Al's ass tucks and hollows, his calves flex and his triceps squeeze, his face tightly wounds.

The boy slumps back to the wall behind him, clothes on hangers fluttering and shifting slightly. He pants heavily but as quietly as he could and looks back at Alfred who is still stuck in the same position.

Alfred breathes, going lax like a rubber band and pulls out of his toy, his throbbing meat still hard and barely even wet with pre. He sighs and looks at his toy with disinterest.

"Used to get off fucking nice cunts..." His language felt so dirty and uncharacteristic of a man-next-door kind of person as Alfred but that just made Ken's adolescent cock twitch once more. 

The American razzes his lips and flops to the bed on his back. He stays silent for a full minute or so, just breathing and clearing his throat, before reaching out for his phone and recording himself.

"See what you did to me?" He begins, not really mad, but as if trying to feign a deadpan sort of annoyance. He reaches for his used felshlight. "I mean, I'm no straight guy but good pussy was good pussy to tear apart."

He wags the thing in his hand. "I _can't get_ off fucking this thing anymore. And I always came in this thing." 

He tosses the toy aside and starts recording himself jacking off. His fluid hips bucking up to his warm hand. He sighs, "but I'm still horny for you...I can't get off without you, it seems." 

"Fuck, I miss that ass...miss that fucking monster you call a dick...I miss you..." His tone becomes soft and tender for that few seconds, before he groans deeply.

"But good thing you had the fucking balls and the shitty idea to give me something special for my birthday." His hand drifts back to his taint, massaging the rim. He bites back a moan. 

He whines and, god, what a beautiful sound that was when he leaves his ass and rummages through his bag to pull out a large red dildo. 

Alfred almost looks fond of it. He sets down his phone to the charging port tripod Japan had given him for that same birthday and angled the phone in front of him. 

The man grins devilishly when he appears kneeling before the camera. He takes the fake, rubber cook and gives a nice suck on the tip of its head. He moans, letting go with a loud, wet pop "doesn't taste a thing like you though...but it could do the job, I guess." 

He props himself against the pillows and gives a lewd show of sucking off a dildo. Ken hisses as his erection grows once more despite still being sore. 

Alfred takes tentative licks of the underside and mouths the length gently, moaning as much as he could while he kept his cock hard. He then starts slowly thrusting the huge length and girth into his mouth and pulling it back a little more quickly, before pushing it deeper and deeper. 

The cycle repeats until the man was almost to the black base. He chokes a little bit and tries to cough it out but controls himself and pushing in. He moans around the base, thinking of dark blonde curls tickling his nose and strong, pungent musk overpowering his senses.

He pulls it out easily. Al pants, chest heaving, eyes watering, and nose red and runny. "You've made me to a fucking cock slut, a whore for free when you show me that godly cock of yours." He beats off faster and faster.

His free hand reaches for the lube and drizzles himself liberally with it until it starts dripping lower and lower. Alfred slathers the liquid all over his perineum and his crack, teasing around the hairy edges as he hooks an arm underneath his left thigh and brings it out of the way of his gorgeous, dusky taint.

Alfred's eyes go dark and lidded in lust as he tries to loosen himself with two fingers prodding around. He moans softly and chuckles at his very response—weak and desperate for it.

He pushes one finger in and he takes in air as if he was going to take a plunge into cold waters. It goes to his second knuckle. His cock throbs in response, shooting out pre as he tries to loosen it by prodding and wriggling as gently as he could. 

"God, my ass is fucking tight again. I need you to fucking fix that. Can't have my cunt wrecking your twin over here." He tries to motion towards the fat dildo but both his hands were busy. 

He concentrates, only wistful sighs and airy dirty talk escapes his lips as he tries to prod deeper and wider with his fingers. 

Ken has the privilege to watch in one of the best seats in the house as the Superpower fingers himself open with two fingers sliding in and out of him as he begs for more. 

With a third easily slipping in, Alfred drops his left leg and centers himself for the camera. All he does his fan out his three fingers, spreading him as pre leaks from his cum in steady strings. His ass clenches on his fingers, the sound of squelching mixing with his bewitching moans and grunts. 

"Should I add a fourth one, babe?" He teases, licking his lips. "I know you always want me ass loose as possible...but..." 

He suddenly moans loudly and whimpers, trying to catch his breath as he shudders through the strong waves of pleasure assaulting him. His prostrate was hit. "Ah! Ah!! I found it!! Fuck, babe, please!! Ah!!" 

Ken's mouth goes dry as the muscled man suddenly trembles for something to fill him. Alfred forces himself to push in a fourth finger, making him fill so full and ready for something bigger. 

He pumps all four digits in and out, his hole obscenely stretching over them and squeezing on each one as if to keep them in. He rubs on his prostrate for more, fingers knuckles-deep, screwing himself. He pulls out completely when it becomes too much, he sits up on his hunches, his eyes blown wide in primal need. 

He grabs something else, a magic wand—a fat vibrating sex toy that slips in and locks inside the red dildo, leaving a black handle that curves up for Alfred to use. 

Alfred turns it on and lies back down, his ass spread wide for anyone to see. It quivers as the large dildo comes closer. He spreads his cheek with his free hand and pushes the rigid pole up his ass. 

He tries rocking into it, helping himself ease onto the length. Ken was starting to breathe louder, unaware on how easy it would have been to be heard. He starts jacking himself off as his mouth drops and drools. 

Alfred's halfway there, writhing and moaning, his cock impossibly red and throbbing for the mixed feelings of pain and pleasure. It became hard to distinguish the two as he closes to bottoming out. He whines for his lover as he abandons spreading his ass for stroking his weeping hard-on.

He bottoms out and he all but bellows, sniffling and shaking as he wills himself to stay calm and still for a moment before he moves. The soft bumps of the curved handle teases his balls and the base of his prick. 

When he was finally adjusted, Al turns on the toy and it starts to hum at medium strength. Alfred's breath hitches as he tries to gently pull out and push in the large cock. 

He could only do it half-way, given that he couldn't get enough of the teasing it gave to his prostate. He curses and rolls to his knees. He braces himself on the headboard as he pulls his toy in and out. 

Ken squeezes himself to prevent even the smallest drop of cum to be wasted as Alfred moans loudly, voice tightening to a high pitch as he licked his lips and drove his hips to meet the aggressive thrusts of the dildo. 

"Ah...I...c-close..." Alfred whimpers, rolling to his back again and stroking harder than he ever could. He bares his teeth as he abandons his dildo. He sets the buzz up to high and with the scream, starts to pump his cock into another fleshlight—the closest one around, the ass one. 

He jacks it off a few more times before taking it off and cumming all over himself with loud, repetitive roars. His legs kick and his glorious body writhes and his hips buckle as he shoots load after load of cum onto his torso. 

Alfred reaches to turn off his toy and whines loudly as he pulls it out, leaving his asshole red, puckered, and rhythmically clenching as if wanting something inside it again—something it can squeeze on to. The man remedies it with his fingers, back to prodding and rubbing around his taint. 

He sucks in a deep, loud, hissing breath and eases his pumps to a relaxed pace. Easy up and easy down. He takes a shuddering breath in and lets out a stream of air as he looks at the sticky mess he's made, all over his stomach and even on his powerful chest.

Ken's lips are raw from gnawing and it even bruises as he takes another bite. The man had scooped his own spunk and eats it up greedily. He squeezes and bumps into his hand until every last bit oozes out of his cock and he proceeds to collect as much of his essence on his fingers and licks it, making sure to moan and whimper as he cleans himself up. 

He sucks on his pointer finger as he gets on his knees and crawls to the camera. His legs are shaky but he goes on any way, adding to his desperation. Alfred pulls out his finger with a loud pop and licks his lips.

"Could've been your jizz I'm eating..." he winks then flops to the bed, grabbing his phone. After a beat of silence, Alfred sighs. 

"I miss you..." he says softly. "Can't wait to see you next month. Love you!" He kisses the screen and stops recording. 

Ken pants as he looks down on his second mess, splattered across his pants and Alfred's discarded shirt. His knees are shaky and back suddenly heavy and rubbery. 

Suddenly it dawns upon him like a freight train, the realization. He doesn't know how he was going to get out of here. Maybe he could wait until Al slept...but the man was a light sleeper—something he said he developed after WWII. 

...the shower.

THE SHOWER.

Yeah, he could just wait for Alfred to take a shower. That is, if he was taking a sh—

The closet swings open and he gets his face mashed against a big, strong, pillowy chest. He momentarily melts before flinching back and falling on his butt as he tries to drag himself back to the closet with his mouth spamming shut and unable to formulate any sort of sentence at all.

He looks at Alfred, who was now wearing a clean pair of boxer briefs that obscenely clung to his softening cock. He was literally in tears as he tries to cover himself up with Al's shirt...

Al's shirt!!

"Fuck! I...this is...yours...no, I mean, I'm sorry!! I'll b-burn it later, Mr. Americ—"

"Al." Alfred shrugs his shoulders. The kid looked utterly confused, as if his brain had just short-circuited. 

The mostly naked man before him rolls his eyes and smiles fondly. He reached out an arm and helps the shaking kid up. 

Ken wordlessly accepts and was easily pulled up to his feet and was now clinging tightly around Alfred's arms—boy, were they big and strong. He couldn't tear his eyes away when he was greeted by kind blue eyes, like a perfectly calm sea in summer. 

"It's Al and don't you forget it." Alfred repeats himself and dusts off the creases and rumples of the kid's shirt. He notices his soiled shirt twisted in the boy's hands and laughs a little.

"Knew you were watching when I came back from the bathroom." He smiled, this time with a little tease in his tone. Ken blushed to hot red and wanted to hide under a rock and die already.

"But hey, enjoyed the show? I know I did!" The man talks about it like it's completely normal.

"Hey, all this is completely natural. A lot of us get it around your age, apparently. Well, I remember jerking off to Arthur and Francis..." he stops laughing and then holds his chin between fingers. "Come to think of it, I think I've jacked off to Li too..." 

Then he shakes his head. "Forming deep social bonds with a senior makes younger reps pass through different stages and forms of emotional attachment before they stabilize. It's literally you just growing up." 

He thwacks his shoulder, harder than he should as Ken tried to parse everything that was happening. The Representative of THE United States of Goddamn America just knowingly and willingly put on a show for him. And not just a half-assed performance. No, he literally screwed himself open and showed him his fucking taint like a porn star. Then, he was talking to him like it was normal.

Alfred was marching back to bed and gathering his clothes. He takes off his underwear as he turns back to the teenage boy, who was having a heart attack at that very moment. This was too good to be true.

"Here, use them as much as you want. Just give them to me when you're done." He hands him all his soiled, sweated on, pungent clothes. Before Ken could even stammer out a word—

"Don't worry about cleaning it. I'll do that. No, it's not a big deal. I'd rather clean them myself." Alfred throws an arm over his lanky shoulders and escorts him out of the room and to his very own.

Turning the lights on, he lets Ken step out of his hold, shirt already lingering with Alfred's wonderful smell. They now stood in front of one another, the taller being unaffected and dumbly happy as he usually was and the younger being his usual, unimaginably shy self. 

"Good night, Ken. Don't worry about a thing." Alfred chuckles, before scratching his nape and then, unconsciously shifting his cock with his hand using languid strokes.

Ken's mouth dries and Al realizes what he had just then. Apologizing quickly, he bows his head and takes a step back out to the hall.

"Tell me when you need more of my shirts. And if you ever wanna explore more stuff. I'm all open for it." Alfred starts walking off, his magnificent ass almost bouncing in every step. He stops somewhere in the middle of the hall and looks behind his shoulder. 

"...and who knows. Maybe, I won't be the only one you get to touch and taste..." he smirks and lets his hand travel down to cup his wonderful posterior. He hears Ken suck in his breath and leaves him there to go back to his room. 

He had given the boy more than enough fantasies to last him a week. He should definitely ask his boyfriend if he wants in on this. 

Ken was a sweet boy and he needed guidance in times like this and it was a lot better with more than one senior to get attached to. He should know, he bonded with Arthur and Francis quickly and lets just say, most of his sexual antics could be traced back to more than the two nations.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments. Likes. Bookmarks. I LOVE THOSE! ;)


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